Severus Snape Drabbles & Short Fiction
by Jalen Strix
Summary: A collection of drabbles and short fiction centering on Severus Snape, inspired by the Hogwarts is Home livejournal community. A variety of genres will likely make an appearance, but drama, romance, and humor promise to be the most common.
1. Subtlety

_Written for a challenge incorporating the "And that little girl was me" trope at the HiH livejournal community._

 **Subtlety**

 _Slightly AU, where Severus survived Nagini's attack. He sits in the hospital wing watching over his apprentice after a failed assassination attempt._

* * *

"Simpletons," Severus growled under his breath. "Incompetent simpletons. Can't even hit their intended target for all their fancy cursework." His gaze rested fitfully on Hermione's unmoving form in the hospital bed. The curse on the chizpurfle carapaces had been subtle, true - the caster had been an artisan of subterfuge, in fact. So why hadn't he actually taken care with the curse's bloody execution?

An ugly thought occurred. _No one really knows Hermione's been your apprentice, now do they? You asked her to keep it quiet for now, given the remnants of Riddle's sympathizers. The caster assumed you would be the only one at Hogwarts to open ingredients of that caliber and delicacy. This is your fault._

They had done it to punish him for his perfidy during the war, of course. His lip curled in disgust as he muttered, "Imbeciles. Maladroits."

He felt Poppy Pomfrey's warm, sympathetic presence behind him. "You know, sometimes people in this state can hear you, even if they can't respond. Why don't you talk to her, Severus?"

"And say what?" he spit out.

"Anything - it doesn't matter. Just let her hear your voice. Tell her a story, perhaps."

He cast Poppy a baleful look.

A look of wry amusement flitted across Poppy's features as she bustled off. "Try it, Severus."

He turned his attention back to Hermione, watching in brooding silence as her chest slowly rose and fell.

He snorted derisively. "A story - bah!"

After a few more moments, he cleared his throat once. "Once upon a time...that's always how these things begin, isn't it?" The words were clipped and brittle. "Well, once upon a time, there was an insufferable know-it-all. Absolutely insufferable. She - and this particular insufferable know-it-all was a young girl, because good stories need young, hearty protagonists who can survive all the adventures they set off on..." A definite note of fond derision colored his words.

"Yes, this young know-it-all was completely ignorant of many things, despite her nomenclature. Fortunately, this simple fact was brought to her attention by a thoroughly brilliant professor once she arrived at a magnificent wizarding educational institution. Of course, as is the way of stories, this brilliant professor was flawed in many ways, but not so flawed that he couldn't see her potential, for he was a potioneer of the highest caliber, and could see the hidden value in all things when he wasn't being blinded by his treacherous emotions."

"But of course, this being that kind of story, the brilliant professor was incessantly irritated by the insufferable know-it-all when she first arrived, with her stubborn inept brazenness. To say she had the social graces of a troll would be an insult to trolls. Typical young Gryffindor, really." A definite dark humor curled now through his voice. "And, as is the way of these things, the know-it-all did not think particularly highly of the brilliant professor, suffering from a certain emotion-induced blindness as well."

"But time passed, as it does, and the young know-it-all became significantly more adept and slightly less insufferable due to the exigencies of a devastating war that broke out while she was in school. Both she and the brilliant professor managed to survive it, and then - much to the surprise of the staff at the magnificent wizarding educational institution - she accepted a position after the war as his apprentice."

He closed his eyes, falling into the rhythmic cadence of performance. "Ah, gentle listener, perhaps you are surprised as well? Wasn't there mutual loathing involved prior to this? Indeed yes - but also a mutual respect, and both the brilliant professor and the now-slightly-less-insufferable know-it-all had learned things during the war that shifted the balance solidly towards respect."

"So she became his apprentice, and the brilliant professor was, secretly, thrilled to his core. Here at last was someone who could see the beauty of precision, who had both the patience and the intellect...in short, someone who could bloody well keep up with him and actually _wanted_ to. The less-insufferable know-it-all also reminded him strongly of another Gryffindor girl he had known many years prior...and cared deeply for. As you may imagine, gentle listener, this was precious to the brilliant professor, who had known a profound loneliness for quite some time. Emotions are treacherous beasts, indeed."

He took a steadying breath. "And so the brilliant professor and the young know-it-all bickered and happily irritated each other for quite some time, as is the way of these stories, all the while making fantastic potions and preparing in secret to publish in the best journals. The brilliant professor was utterly delighted. It was all going so well."

"So clearly, that was when some cretin decided it was the time to get _revenge_ ," he said the word with utter disdain, "on the brilliant professor, and sent some cursed chizpurfle carapaces to him. But said cretin hurt the young know-it-all instead, and not the brilliant professor. Except that the brilliant professor _was_ hurt. So terribly, terribly hurt. Again, his brilliant Gryffindor girl had been taken away, and it was his own bloody fault. Fate was cruel, indeed..."

A whisper interrupted. "Bloody Slytherins."

His eyes snapped open in shocked hope. But there was nothing, no hint of change. It was his thrice-accursed imagination.

Except another whisper came. "Bloody tragic, martyr Slytherins."

His chest rose in sudden inhalation as her eyes opened to look at him for the first time in weeks.

"You heard."

"I did."

"How much did you hear?"

"All of it. Madame Pomfrey was right."

A flush darkened his cheeks. "You let me tell all that..."

A sly grin quirked her lips. "Well," she murmured, "I couldn't manage to get all the way back till the last round of incessant self-recrimination."

Professional curiosity overcame his embarrassment. "So you can give me a firsthand account of the effects of this curse?"

"Quite. Nasty piece of work. You're so good at making friends, aren't you?"

A smile flickered across his mouth. "Get some sleep, you insufferable girl. You can tell me all the details tomorrow."

"I shall," she said, closing her eyes again. "And that's brilliant insufferable know-it-all to you."


	2. There You Are

**There You Are**

 _A what-if moment when Severus Snape meets Harry in first year Potions._

* * *

"...if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Having finished my opening soliloquy, I paused to survey my dunderheads-of-unknown-quality and saw the boy sitting there. James Potter in miniature with that untidy black hair, those glasses covering an arrogant sneer, no doubt.

My lip curled. "Potter!" The unmitigated acidity caused a whip-snap turn of his head towards me, so abrupt his glasses slipped and clattered to his desk.

The world froze as I saw Lily's eyes, the shamed surprise hurtling at me like a javelin. And I could not - _could not_ \- continue my planned abuse, not with those eyes looking at me like that.

 _God, Lily...I have hated you, and I will love you forever, and I miss you always, and...there you are._

My voice underwent a curious softening that caused the class to lean in like hummingbirds to a flower. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

A swallow, then: "I don't know, sir."

"That's because you've yet to learn it. But you will. It makes a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death." I half-smiled to myself, remembering how Lily and I had schemed to make its production more efficient. "My best students will have the chance to brew it when they are seventh-years."

Lily's eyes looked back at me with interest and a callow forgiveness I had thought never again to see in this life.

I noticed the rest of the class suddenly, my little snakes exchanging puzzled/hopeful glances, one Gryffindor boy having held his breath so long that he gasped abruptly and knocked his books off the table.

I closed my eyes briefly. "The dunderhead caveat, however, still holds."


	3. Sides

**Sides**

 _A confrontation from PS/SS, from Snape's perspective._

* * *

How to phrase this just so…

"Very well," I snarled. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie."

Quirrell trembled, the fool so clearly Voldemort's pawn it made my teeth ache. How he came under Voldemort's thrall is anyone's guess, but the goal now was simply to use him for the greater good.

I snorted mentally. Still a pawn, Quirrell. But at least for the proper side now.


	4. Overlays

**Overlays**

 _Severus Snape has conflicting thoughts over seeing Harry for the first time in Potions class. Based on the movie sequence of events._

* * *

I saw him sitting there as I began my opening remarks to the first years. How could I not? He looked just like Potter with that unruly dark mop and those glasses. James in miniature, come back with his arrogant ways.

Of course, I loathed him for that alone, and wanted to make my displeasure felt. My cutting remark made him look up, and there were Lily's eyes looking back at me, filled with shock and confusion and shame.

My heart hammered in painful memory as my mouth took over with its practiced cruelty. _Potter's son, he is Potter's son. Just look at how he ignored you at the beginning of class. Arrogance._

 _He was taking notes, and you know it. Just like Lily would have._

But that truth hurt far too much, and so I buried it beneath layers of sarcasm and disdain as I watched Draco's eyes alight.

I had more than one child to watch over, after all.


	5. Promises To Keep

**Promises To Keep**

 _A view of the Golden Trio from Snape's perspective._

* * *

"It's getting to them."

Phineas Nigellus's voice, with its curious mixture of contempt, concern, and disdainful glee, roused Severus from his current broodings in the Headmaster's office. "What is?"

"Their little adventure," sneered Phineas, with a definite delight. "I think they're discovering what sensible people realize immediately about adventures."

"And that is?"

"Adventures are horrible things that someone else manages to live through. They're excellent in the retelling and wretched in the actual doing."

A soft breath of laughter escaped Severus. "Yes, that's rather an accurate description. But what did you expect? They're Gryffindors. Going on adventures is what they _do_."

"Well," replied Phineas with wheezy amusement, "this trio of Gryffindors is having an abject - and in my opinion quite timely - lesson about what precisely that means."

Severus steepled his fingers thoughtfully. "If you would, tell me what you've been able to observe."

"They think their tatty little blindfold stops me from seeing anything, but that's not the only way to observe things, as any Slytherin knows," replied Phineas in a rather sanctimonious tone.

"Quite," agreed Severus, holding his impatience in check. "So?"

"Weasley is the one most obviously cracking and pulling away. Lack of food doesn't agree with him."

Severus snorted, but with a small modicum of empathy. His childhood had been peppered with episodes of food scarcity, and the transformative power of physical hunger was not lost on him. "Unsurprising. And Granger?"

"She puts on a brave face -"

They both snorted at this, muttering simultaneously, " _Bloody Gryffindors_."

"-but," continued Phineas, "the strain of constantly being the brains _and_ the magical muscle _and_ the morale mast is wearing her down."

"Also unsurprising." Severus sighed in disgust. "She has never learned to delegate. She still thinks she can do everything herself."

Phineas sniffed repressively. "With those two boys as companions, can you really blame her for taking charge?"

Severus cocked an eyebrow. "How sympathetic of you. I didn't realize you had a soft spot for Muggle-borns."

Phineas flushed and cleared his throat. "I...find I am sympathetic to talent, wherever it comes from."

Severus smiled wryly. "How enlightened of you. I find I hold a similar perspective."

Phineas stared at Severus for a moment and opened his mouth to say something more.

Severus cut him off. "And Potter? How does he fare?"

Phineas's brow furrowed at the less-than-subtle change of subject. "He's losing confidence and prone to melancholy - the slow disintegration of that friend-bond has shaken him. Also, the true nature of adventures is disagreeably... omnipresent."

Severus nodded in thought. "Promises made in times of emotional duress can be difficult to keep."

Phineas sneered. "Bah! Children's promises are made of clay. They dry and break so easily. You owe them no pity."

Severus merely looked at him, letting the silence settle around them both. At last, Phineas turned away and walked out of the frame.

Severus continued looking at the empty space in Phineas's portrait for a moment before murmuring, "My promises are made of sterner stuff. And I owe Potter a sword."


	6. Illumination

**Illumination**

 _Snape's musings on Hermione, and why she affects him so._

* * *

I pride myself on knowing myself. Introspection, self-awareness, rationality…these are some of my most finely honed strengths after everything that I've done. So, naturally, my thoughts turn to why that Gryffindor chit irritates me beyond all rationality.

Yes, she's an insufferable know-it-all. True, she has the social graces of a goat. But she's a mere student when all is said and done. Bright students come and bright students go. And with times as they are, they may go sooner than ever.

So why does she occupy my thoughts outside the classroom?

As the Golden Trio swishes by (yet again – how many times have I seen this over the years?), they are nigh-haloed with their heroic aura. Someone really ought to tell them to tone it down. But why, _why_ are my eyes inexorably drawn to her?

 _Because_ , whispers the introspective part of me, _she is so like Lily_.

No – the thought is disgusting, repugnant, horrific.

I pause, letting rationality subsume emotion.

The thought, as distasteful as it seems, is true. And I see it now that I'm looking.

She's so close to what Lily was like, especially now that's she grown into herself more. Brilliant, daring, loyal Muggle-born Gryffindor. But not… quite …Lily. Missing that devilish fire in her eyes. Missing that subtlety melded with the ruthless intent (and I do know the ruthless intent is there – I remember the punishment for the girl who ratted out the DA). So close, but not quite perfect.

The field of Muggle aesthetics has a term for it, actually: the uncanny valley. And there it is, plain as fresh bobotuber pus: Hermione is the uncanny valley of my Lily. Close enough to spur the longing and recognition, but far enough away to be noticeable. To clash. To cause immediate revulsion.

And, oh, how I despise her for it.

Not rational? Quite. A waste? Certainly. Insurmountable?

Well, we shall see.


	7. Moments of Being

**Moments of Being**

 _Severus Snape contemplates the bright moments in his life._

* * *

I collected them like butterflies, the memories preserved and incorruptible, pinned painstakingly to my mental walls.

They are all of Lily, of course.

* * *

( **First Year: Glaucopysche lygdamus, Silvery Blue** )

She stopped me in a corridor outside the Great Hall, grabbing my hand as I tried to slink away. "Severus, look at me."

I lifted my eyes, drinking in the fierceness of her expression, the unmistakable warmth there.

"Severus, I'll still see you. You're still my friend. Who cares if we're in different houses? Look," she held up her schedule, "we have Potions together this week." She smiled, and it was light itself. "I'll see you then for certain. And probably before!" She made a face. "I'll need someone to rescue me from those toerag first year Gryffindor boys!"

My lips twitched in ragged hope. "Yeah, can't leave you to rot with that lot."

"Exactly." She grinned. "I definitely need my Prince."

* * *

( **Third Year: Papilio aegeus, Orchard Swallowtail** )

"You're my best friend, Sev." Her green eyes were alight with determination. "So what if our respective houses have the collective maturity of an adolescent pixie? Don't let it get to you. Aren't I still your potions partner?"

I nodded slowly, my despair dissolving in the glow of her. "The best."

"Well, there you are. The rest of them can sod off."

Her quick and easy embrace was wildfire through me.

* * *

( **Fifth Year: Battus Polydamus Antiquus, extinct subspecies of Polydamus Swallowtail** )

We were sitting outside together, books on our laps, back to back as we leaned on each other.

"Lil...sometimes I say things wrong. I've got my father's temperament, and I'm sorry for that." My words were tumbling, fumbling and spilling. "I'm awkward and strange and...and I just want you to know that you mean the world to me. You always have. I'd do anything for you. Anything."

Quiet hung between us, stretching.

Then, her hand reached to touch mine. "Sev, I love you, too."

And for an infinitesimal breath, the world was made of light.

* * *

These are some of my best lights in the darkness, when all other lights have failed.


	8. All the Night-Tide

**All the Night-Tide**

 _Severus Snape contemplates his love for Lily, finding similarity and solace in a poem by Edgar Allan Poe._

* * *

It was only afterwards that I stumbled across the works of the muggle writer Edgar Allan Poe. It takes a depressive to truly appreciate one, I suppose. His poetry penetrated where so few other things did, always a background melancholy voice running through my thoughts, providing a frame to stretch my sanity across.

Annabel Lee was for Lily, of course.

* * *

 _It was many and many a year ago,_

 _In a kingdom by the sea,_

Known to the rest of the world as Spinner's End. Not exactly the sea, and not anything like a kingdom, but close enough and that's certainly where we were.

 _That a maiden there lived whom you may know_

 _By the name of Annabel Lee;_

 _And this maiden she lived with no other thought_

 _Than to love and be loved by me._

* * *

In my heart of hearts, I dream this as truth. And in our childhood pre-Hogwarts, I'll wager it was true enough.

* * *

 _I was a child and she was a child,_

 _In this kingdom by the sea,_

 _But we loved with a love that was more than love—_

 _I and my Annabel Lee—_

* * *

Always, Lily. Always.

* * *

 _With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven_

 _Coveted her and me._

* * *

If one could call James Potter and his cronies seraphs. They certainly had the seal of approval from the Powers For Righteous Good. And there was coveting, of that there can be no doubt.

* * *

 _And this was the reason that, long ago,_

 _In this kingdom by the sea,_

 _A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling_

 _My beautiful Annabel Lee;_

* * *

And it was a wind hissing one ragged, wretched word. _Mudblood._ Echoing between us, unretractable and utterly unforgivable.

Bloody seraphs.

* * *

 _So that her highborn kinsmen came_

 _And bore her away from me,_

 _To shut her up in a sepulchre_

 _In this kingdom by the sea._

* * *

And while Godric's Hollow wasn't officially a sepulcher, it may as well have been. She was gone, ensconced with her cadre of noble Gryffindors.

* * *

 _The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,_

 _Went envying her and me— Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,_

 _In this kingdom by the sea)_

 _That the wind came out of the cloud by night,_

 _Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee._

* * *

And this time, the wind had a distinctive green light made of obliterating un-fire. And surely there were true seraphs whose envy contributed to make it so that the prophecy was just so, so that Voldemort interpreted it just so. So that Lily was in the path of devastation and would not be moved.

And that's how I found her afterwards. Unmoved from her final, desperate stand.

Just so.

* * *

 _But our love it was stronger by far than the love_

 _Of those who were older than we—_

 _Of many far wiser than we—_

 _And neither the angels in Heaven above_

 _Nor the demons down under the sea_

 _Can ever dissever my soul from the soul_

 _Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

* * *

And as I held her in my arms, cold and stiff and nothing like Lily at all really, I knew this to be true.

* * *

 _For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams_

 _Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

* * *

Every night.

* * *

 _And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes_

 _Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_

* * *

Every time I see her eyes looking back at me from her son, who looks so like James. I hate him for that, for being the blend of them. And I will protect him to my last breath because of it.

* * *

 _And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_

 _Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,_

 _In her sepulchre there by the sea—_

 _In her tomb by the sounding sea._

* * *

And, in truth, I have never, never arisen.


	9. Crucible

**Crucible**

 _Severus Snape, in the time immediately following Lily's death. Written for the challenge "New beginnings are often disguised as painful endings."_

* * *

I truly thought I had died when I saw Lily's body. My own body went numb, my chest frozen, my breath stopped up in a branching agony of _No_.

The most virulent depths of Crucio would never have anything on that moment.

The time after that blurred and jumped, a hazy reel of mouths moving like marionettes and inquisitive glances like broken glass. I had no use for any of them. Somehow when I looked outwards again, I was sitting in Dumbledore's office. A terrible keening sound was coming from somewhere. After a long moment, I realized it was coming from me.

I looked up at Dumbledore, my misery and self-loathing cascading out in a wave of useless words.

And somehow, _somehow,_ Dumbledore worked his ineffable magic of tongue and tone. Somehow, before I knew it, I was agreeing to be the protector of Potter's spawn.

No. That wasn't right. The boy was Lily's child. The last living piece of Lily, with her eyes.

Perhaps one day those eyes would hold forgiveness for me.

And for a moment, I felt wings unfurling in my chest, spreading wide and free and fierce with purpose. It burned and it ached, this purpose, but it was _alive_ and _I_ was alive. And it was good.

I glanced up at Dumbledore's phoenix, who had so recently risen from the ashes of its rebirth after a lengthy period of being a grubby little thing you would be hard-pressed to love if you didn't know it, and what it could become. And I swear the bird winked at me.

Every now and then, the universe deigns to be more direct in its symbolism. I took the hint.

I drew myself up, gathering the shattered remnants of myself into a new whole. An ornery, ferocious, and rather grim whole that demanded that any noble acts I would do on behalf of Lily's son would be forever hidden because I was _not_ a bloody hero. But a new whole, nonetheless.

After all, I had work to do.


	10. Discoveries

**Discoveries**

 _Slightly AU, where Snape survives the final battle and Hermione has become a fellow Hogwarts professor. She stumbles upon a very interesting Muggle invention._

* * *

"Severus, I really need to tell you about something."

He looked up, recognizing that particular tone and - ah yes, there it was - the familiar feverish glint in Hermione's eye. "Well?"

"They call it Wikipedia."

He raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Your pronouns need context."

She shook her head quickly. "Sorry, the Muggles have this thing...this collective well-spring of knowledge better than any encyclopedia I've ever seen, magical or otherwise. They created it through something called wisdom of the crowds."

Severus snorted.

"Yes, I know, but hear me out - anyone is free to contribute about whatever they know about. There's some oversight, yes, but it's fairly minimal. The whole effectively polices itself, generating an unbelievable trove of information about anything you could imagine. The depth is just...I got lost for hours following one link after another when I was just looking up one mushroom's genus to see if I could substitute it in that new potion..."

She trailed off, noting Severus's abject look of skepticism. She huffed a sigh, and then brought out a slim tablet device. "Right, go on then." She tapped a button, causing the screen to ignite, and then flicked a spot which caused _Wikipedia_ to blaze across. She touched her finger to a box near the top. "Go on and type something in. Just tap the letters here."

After a moment, he pecked out _chizpurfle carapaces_ , and waited.

"Hit _Done_."

He did. A message appeared saying nothing was found, and the screen remained blank.

He raised an eyebrow at her, and she flushed. "Well, their Wizarding section is woefully inadequate. Look, just try...here." She typed in his name, and a row appeared with his name and a picture of some fellow dressed in black.

Both his eyebrows jumped.

She tapped the row, and images and words appeared on the screen.

He scanned it for a moment. "Fictional character! And who is this Rowling woman?"

"My best guess is an enterprising Muggleborn. Very enterprising."

"Why are some words in a different color?"

"Those," she said reverently, "are _links_. Touch one."

He hit _antagonist_ with a somewhat derisive snort, and a new article appeared about literary antagonists. There was also a mention of a pharmacological term, _receptor antagonist_.

His derision slipped immediately to interest, and he tapped the second term.

Three hours later, he came up for air when the device's battery failed.

Hermione looked up from the book she had been flipping absently through. "So you see."

He nodded once. "Indeed. A wizarding equivalent would be..." He shook his head, his eyes sparking.

"Exactly. Let's call a faculty meeting. If we can get enough of them on board, I see a very interesting sixth year requirement about to come into being."

"I do so enjoy the way you think, Professor Granger."

She smiled. "Indeed, Professor Snape."


	11. Connections

**Connections**

 _Slightly AU, where Severus Snape survives the final battle. Hermione drops in to check on him many years later._

* * *

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "People are talking, Severus. The reclusive hermit act is getting old." She sighed. "As your former apprentice, I tell you these things because no one else will." She paused. "Also, your wards extend thirty meters beyond your front door and are decidedly nasty."

He arched an eyebrow, not looking up from his issue of _Potions Quarterly._

"You may be a war hero, but that only cuts you so much slack. The war was over two decades ago. Memories are short. You know that."

He flipped a page, unperturbed.

"No one can be an island, Severus. It isn't healthy."

He flipped another page, dragging a finger unhurriedly across.

She rolled her eyes. "At least be a bloody archipelago. Connect to someone. _Anyone_ , for pity's sake."

Minutes dribbled by, unmarked except for the occasional page flip. Hermione growled in frustration.

"St. Kilda."

She glanced up at him. "What?"

"St.," he repeated slowly, "Kilda. It contains the westernmost islands of the Outer Hebrides. Nicely isolated archipelago."

She blinked at him.

"I shall be St. Kilda. You may be Soay, a mere half a kilometer away from the main island of Hirta. Would you care to set a tea appointment for next week?"

Her lips twitched in a half-smile. "I'd forgotten how odd your sense of humor is."

"Next Tuesday at 3pm perhaps?"

"Done. You insufferable man."

"That's insufferable St. Kilda to you."


	12. Covalent Bonds

**Covalent Bonds**

 _Hermione has a suggestion for escaping a joint predicament with Severus._

 _A/N: Written as a requested fic for hh-sugarquill's Summer Fling. A slightly AU Severus/Hermione vaguely crack-ish fic with the following elements: an experiment gone wrong, a little UST that doesn't stay that way, a childhood memento, and surviving by any means necessary. Also, a Princess Bride reference because I couldn't help myself._

* * *

Severus snorted and crossed his arms. "Preposterous. Utterly preposterous."

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Mmm. How long have we worked together, Severus?"

He arched an eyebrow back. "Do you count the years when you were an insufferable Gryffindor chit at Hogwarts?"

"No." Hermione crossed her own arms. "But I do count the years when I was your insufferable Gryffindor apprentice - whom you voluntarily _asked_ to be said apprentice. And I certainly count the years that I've been your insufferable Gryffindor research partner in the ever-so-delightful interdisciplinary area of potion-based defense against the dark arts."

His jaw clenched in the silence, rather suspiciously like he was trying to hide his trademark half-smile.

Hermione didn't bother to hide hers. "Well? How many years has it been?"

The words, when they came, were rather overly curmudgeonly. "Twenty four."

"Precisely." She tapped her fingers against her arm. "So when I tell you that _this_ is the solution to our current predicament, please believe me that I have not come to this conclusion lightly. I have, in fact, weighed every other alternative, particularly given our startlingly _large_ spate of failures with the things we've already tried." She took a deep, speculative breath. "I can say, with little doubt, that it was _not_ the fault of the chizpurfle carapaces, whatever you may feel to the contrary."

He drummed his fingers against his crossed arms. "What you propose is still preposterous."

"And I still say you should have been in Gryffindor with that stubborn streak."

His glare was positively mutinous. And he was, quite clearly, enjoying his grouch.

She stifled a grin. "Look, you're the one who added in the breath blown across a page from the muggle fairy tale collection with a tearstain on it. Perhaps you should have examined the content of the page more closely since it came from your childhood collection and all. Honestly, Sleeping Beauty? I never would have guessed it affected you so much as a child."

"The tearstain wasn't from when I was a child."

"Oh?"

"It was after Lily's death."

Hermione tilted her head at him quizzically. Her eyes widened in understanding. "Ah. An instant death spell averted. Which, at that point, only happened in fairy tales. No help to Lily." Her voice gentled and she touched a hand to his shoulder. "It must have been maddening to read about right after."

Severus growled, but didn't shrug her hand off.

"Mmm. Which brings us to our present calamity and my suggestion. You'll note the parallels to the Sleeping Beauty tale."

His nostrils flared in consideration. "I suppose. Pre-emptive conversion of an instant death spell into a deep stasis spell, meant to protect the intended victim."

"Quite. It should have been a tip-off that our planned exit wasn't in the cards. Meanwhile, _my_ suggestion is."

He snorted. "It's still preposterous."

"You keep saying that word. I don't think it means what you think it means." She tapped her foot. "Besides, since we're _also_ not in stasis as planned, exactly how long do you think we can survive like this? I don't know about you, but I'm getting thirsty. And hungry. And let's not even mention the loo issue that will surely arise."

Severus's jaw tightened. "Pre-pos-te-rous."

"Be that as it may. Unless you have an alternative?"

Silence thundered from him.

"As I thought." She drew on her inner Dumbledore and twinkled mischievously at him. "Pucker up, hot lips."

His strangled look was positively priceless. But he did lean forward.

It began as a peck on the mouth, and clearly had fine intentions of staying that way. But the scent of him was like fire and musk and stubborn grit, and she caught his lips in hers for the briefest of moments, and it became decidedly not-a-peck. Rapidly not-a-peck, in point of fact. The longing of years concentrated into that not-a-peck, and it was heated and liquid and electrifying and endless, and there was an inordinate quantity of wandering hands, all told.

It was perhaps unsurprising that they both completely failed to notice when the glittering gray fog around them lifted, depositing them back in the lab.

Severus broke away, blinking hard at the sudden light. "That was...effective. And not unpleasant."

"Mmm. And it's only taken you twenty four years to get over yourself and notice." Hermione flashed him a cheeky smile. "Well-observed, Severus."

He blinked at her. "You're insufferable."

"Learned from the best. Now come on back here, hot lips."

He growled into her mouth, and she laughed into his, and this time there were no intentions in the slightest of it being a peck.


	13. Resistance

**Resistance**

 _Lily defends her choice to continue being friends with Severus._

* * *

"People are talking, you know," said Rose, a girl from my year who had suddenly materialized beside me in the Gryffindor common room.

I sighed and placed my finger in the page of the book I was reading. "Are they now? What about this time?"

"Lily, you know I'm your friend and I'm only trying to protect you."

"Mmhmm." I began drumming my free fingers against the table. "And?"

"You can't keep being friends with that Slytherin boy."

"Severus. His name is Severus, Rose. You won't turn into a pillar of salt if you say it."

She wrinkled her nose. "Fine, _Severus_ , whatever. The point is he's a slimy git who hangs around that blood purist freak gang."

I rolled my eyes. This was an argument I'd been having since I first got to Hogwarts. "You don't have to like all the friends of your friends."

" _Birds of a feather flock together_ ," she replied sanctimoniously.

I narrowed my eyes. "Why is this suddenly a devastating issue right now, anyway?"

"What? I mean, he's...I don't know...I...you know-"

I sighed again. "The Toerag Trio put you up to this, didn't they?"

She goggled at me. "The _who_?"

"Sirius, Peter, and James."

Her mouth open and shut a few times before she managed, "You don't count Remus?"

"He's actually quite nice when you talk to him on his own. So no, not a toerag. Well? Did they send you?"

She wet her lips, trying to think up a plausible excuse on the fly.

I sighed a third time. "Don't bother. It was them. God, why the hell do they care so much? Sev's brilliant and yes, he's a bit of a prick sometimes, but he's got a good heart."

Her eyebrows drew together. "You don't _like_ him, do you? I mean _like him_ like him?"

Realization hit me upside the head. "God, that's what this is about, isn't it? James found someone who's not bloody interested and decided, _golly gee, that's the one!_ " I closed my eyes briefly. "Well, you can go back and tell James to sod the hell off."

"Lily," she hissed, "I _can't_. _You_ can't! You have to drop the slime boy-"

"Severus," I grit out.

"-Severus, whatever, you have to drop him. He'll just turn on you someday."

"Whereas the Toerags will always remain true to form?"

"Whereas Lions will be loyal to you forever." She lifted her chin. "That's what we do."

I felt my own stubbornness roar forth. "You can't stop me. And the Toerag Trio can't stop me. _No one_ can stop me from being friends with whomever I want. So traipse back to the Trio, let them know their stupid message was delivered, and they can _sod the bloody hell off._ "

Something must have sunk into my voice because her eyes widened and she backed away very slowly before turning and running.

I snorted softly and returned to my book. Sev and I were discussing it after dinner and I needed to finish the last chapter.


	14. M is for

**M is for**

 _Lily gets a morale boost from Severus. Written for a challenge about the quote "Sometimes talking to your best friend is the only therapy you need."_

* * *

I held my breath as I heard the door to the girl's loo creak open. _Go away, go away, go awa-_

"Lily? Are you here?" Sev's voice echoed in the empty space.

"Sev! What are you doing? You can't come in here!" I almost kept my voice from quavering, but not quite. I knew he heard it.

He drew a sharp breath. "That's why I'm in the doorway, not inside. But they said-"

" _Who_ said?" The words were harsher than I intended.

I actually heard him flinch. "The Gryffindor girls. They said you were in here and you were..."

"What? They said I was _what_?"

"Crying." His voice was a murmur in the shadows. "They said you were crying."

"They're sodding idiots." I furiously wiped the tear tracks off my face.

"Undoubtedly. But why _are_ you crying, Lils?"

I clenched my jaw silently.

"Lils?" His voice took on a desperate edge. He sounded like he would quietly murder whoever or whatever had upset me.

The thought brought a watery smile to my face.

"Lils!" I heard him take a tentative step into forbidden territory.

I had to save him from himself. He was already unpopular in parts of Slytherin and house point loss wouldn't help matters. I stepped out of the stall I'd been hiding in. "Those girls. They said that I was a mu...a m..." I swallowed hard, still not quite in control of my voice.

"A mudblood?" Sev had the queerest look on his face, like the word was strangling him.

I felt my brow crinkle. It was an odd word I hadn't heard before. "No. A muggle." I felt my jaw clench again. "Because I didn't get some stupid reference to a wizard fairy tale or something."

His face seemed to visibly relax. "They're the stupid ones, Lils. You're marvelous. You're better than marvelous and you're better than all of them put together. Especially at Charms." He smiled one of his trademark smiles that sent timid first years screeching around corners.

That smile always made me feel warm inside. I smiled back, wide and fierce. "Bloody right I am. And Potions, too."

"Bloody right. Speaking of, we're due in Potions in five minutes."

I hugged him quickly as I exited. "You're the best, Sev."

"No, Lils - you are."

The words hung in my ears like a melody as we walked to class.


	15. Changes

**Changes**

 _Headmaster Severus puts the Sorting Hat on in a moment of quiet during the events of Book Seven. Written for the HH-Sugarquill prompt of "Bee in your bonnet?"._

* * *

The Sorting Hat hummed thoughtfully to itself. "Rather like Dumbledore, the second time."

My eyebrows jumped. "Dumbledore had a second time?"

"And a third, and a fourth, and more beyond that. Did you think you were the only Headmaster to wonder?"

"Did the answer change often?"

"For Dumbledore? Only the once. Bothered him terribly, though."

"What did it change to?" My lip curled as I suddenly imagined the only House that would cause Dumbledore such distress to belong to. But he'd been a _canny_ twinkle-eyed bastard, for all his good intentions. And very much a means-to-the-end sort of planner.

There was amused laughter from the Hat. It knew. "But we're here to look at _you_ , Severus Snape. The cunning is there, of course, well-honed. And you've needed it, along with your adaptability, your patience, and _oh yes_ , your subtlety. But look at what you've done in the name of accomplishing your goals. Such _hard_ work and long, tireless effort with little thanks because it was simply what needed to be done."

My eyes narrowed. "If you say Hufflepuff, I will incinerate you."

It chuckled. "You haven't the empathy."

I felt vaguely stung, though I had always scoffed at those driven by their compassion, like Pomona. But I suppose no one liked to be told they were lacking - even in something they didn't particularly value.

"But now, just _look_ at that courage, that willingness to sacrifice simply _everything_ for the one you love. How noble of you. So like Dumbledore."

I growled. "I do _not_ twinkle. Never have. Never will."

It chuckled again. "Not everyone who belongs in Gryffindor twinkles." Its creaky voice was suddenly soft as memory and twice as suggestive. "Our girl Lily sacrificed everything for those she loved, too."

My breath hitched. "That she did."

"You have farther to go, Severus, but right now you do it with the House of the Lions in your heart." There was an unmistakable warmth in its broken tones. "Just like Lily."

 _Just like Lily._

"Now don't you have better things to do? Like getting Godric's sword to Lily's son?"

I spoke above the thundering in my chest. "That I do."


	16. The Things We Do

**The Things We Do**

 _Slightly AU, with Severus surviving the war. Research partner Hermione has a talk with him about his demeanor. Written for the prompt of "denial"._

* * *

"I am perfectly capable of being cordial."

"Denial," Hermione snorted, "it ain't just a river in Egypt."

Seconds dribbled by. At last, Severus spoke. "That American accent is utterly _appalling_."

"It's my best Mark Twain impression. And the point still stands." She took in his stony expression, pressed two fingers to her forehead, and sighed. "Look, Severus, they bring us out at these fundraising functions because we're war heroes - no, stop curling your lip, we _are_. And those with money just want to pick up a little of that shine in return for the unholy sums they're donating to the university. So I understand your disposition towards them. You and cordial aren't on speaking terms. But perhaps you could aim for stoically taciturn over shockingly acerbic?"

His mouth tightened.

"Unless you want to be out of a job? This is a research university and you know it as well as I do. We get paid to generate income - whether by research or reputation. And our potions-based defense against the dark arts pursuits aren't raking in the galleons just yet."

"They will."

She smiled at the confidence glittering in his eyes. "I know. But until then?"

He exhaled slowly. "I will endeavor to be more...approachable."

Her smile twisted wryly. "Simply avoid verbal skewering if you can. No one's expecting miracles."


	17. Layers

**Layers**

 _Severus is confronted by Voldemort about his double agent status. Written for the challenge of "Survival"._

* * *

"Leave me now - except _you_ , Severus."

I froze as the other Death Eaters scurried away like rats from a sinking ship.

Voldemort steepled his fingers, resting his chin on them as he regarded me. Silence stretched like cobwebs.

At last, I spoke, forcing myself to breathe normally. "My Lord?"

"I know of your agreement with Dumbledore, of course."

I said nothing, because there was nothing to say. The question was simply how many more moments of life remained to me and how painful they would be. _For you, Lily._ I blinked slowly, savoring the sensations of eyelid and breath.

"What I'm trying to decide, Severus, is exactly how devious you are." His lips crooked up in a half-smile. "Which of us are you deceiving, hmmm?"

Opportunity fluttered its brilliant wings at me and I grasped them with everything I had. "Perhaps you would care to look into my thoughts, my Lord?"

"That I would, Severus. If you would be so kind?"

A heartbeat passed as I compressed certain thoughts into a singularity at my core, wrapping layers of half-truth around them into a whirling miasma whose event horizon looked identical to the core. Whether it would be enough to fool the best Legilimens the world had seen in generations...well, we'd soon find out.

He wasn't gentle, but he wasn't overly harsh either. I let the outer walls collapse one by one as he probed them, showing a proper balance of strength and deference. He reached the event horizon, scrutinizing it for uncountable moments.

At last, he withdrew. We exhaled simultaneously.

"Hatred and revenge versus love of a woman. You chose wisely, Severus." His half-smile curled between us. "And that Potter _was_ insufferable to you."

I nodded.

"So continue your ruse with Dumbledore. It will be to our advantage."

I nodded again.

"You know, Severus, if I actually had lieutenants, I'd make you one - your deviousness is exemplary. You do Slytherin house proud."

I bowed my head, letting my own lips flicker briefly up."Thank you, my Lord."


	18. As I Lay

**As I Lay**

 _Severus's last few moments. Written for the prompt "It was a dark and stormy night", and in memory of Alan Rickman._

* * *

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it should have been.

It's amazing how many thoughts swirl in your mind (and the quality thereof) when you're dying. Which I clearly was, due to Nagini's tender ministrations. Time seems almost to dilate, as if you're on the edge of a black hole's event horizon, stretching thinner and thinner into infinity.

Voldemort had left some time ago (milliseconds? hours? did it matter?) and the Golden Trio hovered before me in their incessant halo of heroic valor. I could see Harry's eyes - _Lily's_ eyes - and a great gush of need welled up out of me like blood. He had to know. Those eyes had to forgive me my transgressions, to know the depths of my sacrifice.

Selfish, I suppose. But when you're dying, it turns out you cease to care about such trivial matters. Convenient, really.

The memories spooled from me like a web and I realized vaguely that Harry didn't know what to do with them, wasn't prepared to catch them. That was James's son for you. If I had the strength to arch a supercilious eyebrow, I would have.

But, ah! There was Hermione to the rescue with a flask to gather the delicate stream of memories. She knew what it was, quick-thinking, brave Gryffindor girl. My heart gave a sudden squeeze at the uncanny similarities between them, her and Lily.

 _Ah, Lily._

Lily's eyes were looking down at me now, filling my event horizon full, green as spring and new beginnings.

 _I will love you forever, Lily. Forever and ever. Amen._


	19. Pickled Pink

**Pickled Pink**

 _Author's note: Yes, the title is a word play on "tickled pink" and no, I absolutely could not help myself. I'm so sorry (not sorry)._

 _Lily discovers something about Severus. Written for the prompt "She was laughing all night."_

* * *

"Sev, no, it was _you_?!" Lily's eyes were wide with shock and pleasure. "The Cornish pixies, the pickles, the triggered Accio with the owl droppings - _you_ pulled that off? Right under James's priggish little nose?" Her laughter pealed out with glorious abandon.

I smiled, trying not to flush at her appreciation. "Well, he had it coming."

"Oh, Merlin, _yes_! But smart money on who did it was one of the Claws. The execution was wicked creative - almost whimsical, I mean, those _pickles_ \- and heaven knows he's been a prat to scores of the eagles." Laughter bubbled out of her again. "I should have known it was you. It was wicked _brilliant_ , that's what it was. And damned sneaky. How did you get those pixies to do anything, let alone that little coordinated escapade with James's pants?"

I blinked slowly, tamping down my smirk. "Did you know Cornish pixies have a decided fondness for pickled sugar quills?"

She scrunched up her nose in that delightful way she had. "Pickled sugar quills? Really?"

I shrugged. "The things you learn if you read the right sources."

She burst out in a fit of giggles. "I clearly need your sources. And I may never be able to hear the word pickle again without laughing."

I nodded sagely. "There are worse fates." I leaned in conspiratorially. " _Pickle._ "

She laughed again, a golden sound to light the heavens. "Sev, _stop_ it!"

"Pickle."

" _Sev_! You're incorrigible."

"Like a pickle?"

"Gaaaah!" She was clutching her sides now. "You're merciless."

"Not unlike a pickle."

" _Sev_!" She swatted at my arm. "Keep it up and you'll find more than your sugar quills pickled."

"I knew there was a reason we were friends."

"Always. You devilish pickle, you."


	20. Like Sunshine

**Like Sunshine**

 _Slightly AU, where Severus survives. He contemplates a Max Mueller quote he's run across._

* * *

 _Max Mueller,_ I thought to myself yet again this afternoon, _was an idiot._

I had run across an insipid quote of his last night and the thing had lodged in my brain like a dratted fly. _A flower cannot blossom without sunshine, and man cannot live without love_.

Pah.

I hated that he was right.

"Severus," Hermione said as she looked up from the other desk in the laboratory, "you've got your _someone's-an-idiot_ face on again. Are you grading the third-year essays? I told you I'd do that. I just haven't gotten to it yet. But I _will_ get them finished by Thursday."

"I am _not_ grading the third-year essays."

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"Who's the idiot then?"

I put on my best glower. "You, for butting into my business uninvited."

She snorted, completely unfazed. "The moment I signed on as the other Defense professor at Hogwarts was an _interesting_ choice, no doubt. That being said, you just started with the _pah-that-idiot_ face again approximately a minute ago, and you've been making it at various intervals all afternoon. So give."

I steepled my fingers. "I had no idea my face was something you catalogued so meticulously."

She arched an eyebrow in that wry way of hers. "Dodge attempt duly noted. Now talk. It's good for the soul." Her eyes widened at my sudden breath. "That hit a nerve. What's wrong, Severus?"

I let my eyes glaze with cool dismissal. "You wouldn't understand."

"Oh, _please_. How long have we been co-teaching Defense?" She crossed her arms at my silence. "Well? How long?"

I felt my jaw tighten in some unnameable emotion that was too awful to contemplate. "Thirteen years."

"And how many times have you stumped me on something? Hmmm?"

I snorted derisively. "This isn't about defense against the dark arts."

"So? The point still stands. If you don't talk soon, I'll be forced to do things I'd rather not."

I raised an eyebrow. "You think threats bother me? I was a double agent for the Light side for years, placing myself at the hands of a paranoid lunatic with a predilection for randomized torture. I was, in point of fact, nearly decapitated by his giant snake. Your threats, shall we say, lack _fangs_ , Hermione."

She stared steadily at me with that sheen of sheer bloody-mindedness I'd come to recognize. "Severus, I will stand here and tell you embarrassing personal truths about myself until you wish you could run screaming from the room. But you will be utterly helpless to flee, held immobile by the unmitigated horror of me bearing my soul so blatantly, you tight-lipped Slytherin bastard." She waggled both her eyebrows at me. "Now spill."

I stared at her. My lips began to twitch in something suspiciously like laughter, damn the woman. "I truly despise you."

"Yeah? Let the horrifying personal truths begin. I truly _love_ you, you utterly ridiculous man. You don't care for me in the same way, so my life is torture. Your turn."

I blinked very slowly at her. "What?"

"Your _turn_. Spill. Or must I add more horrifying statements?"

I felt metaphorical sunshine burst on top of my head. "Go back. Say that again."

She rolled her eyes. "My life is torture, woe is me, you don't love me like I love you, I am a flower in darkness forever, alas?"

"Yes, that bit." I swallowed. "Terribly wrong."

It was her turn to blink. "Which bit?"

"All of it." I exhaled slowly. "From beginning to end."

Maniacal Gryffindor glee danced in her eyes. "All of it?"

"Every last syllable."

A smile spread across her lips like a sunrise. "I don't know about the life as torture part - have you _seen_ the third-year essays?"

I felt an answering smile stretch across my own lips. "Yes, well, we can't expect miracles."

"What _can_ we expect, Severus?"

"Tea tomorrow afternoon perhaps? My quarters?"

"A fine plan." Her eyes flashed again. "To begin with."


	21. Fancy That

**Fancy That**

 _Severus gets an earworm._

* * *

 _Masquerade! Paper faces on parade...Hide your face, so the world will never find you…_

The words thrummed in my head as I marked yet another abysmal potions essay. Why we didn't teach children the basics of writing as part of the Hogwarts curriculum was beyond me.

Why those damned song lyrics kept fluttering around in my mind was also beyond me. I'd seen Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical when it had first come out, of course - my love of Muggle musicals was yet another secret of mine. At least it was a pleasant one.

Lily had enjoyed musicals, too. She would have loved _Phantom of the Opera_.

I studiously ignored the obvious parallels in the plotline and my own love life. I may not have had a hideous countenance physically, but I was tolerated at best and loathed at worst.

I'd come to terms with it sometime back, at one of those interminable staff meetings where Albus twinkled benevolently down at us all. The patronizing bastard. But I'll give him this: he knew how to use the strengths of his pawns. And I was so damned good at deception. Especially now, after so much practice.

My arm began to burn in that familiar, insidious way. Speak of the devil. Duty called.

 _Masquerade! Seething shadows, breathing lies...Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you!_

I shook my head, trying to dislodge the melody of it. Persistent little tune. I'd have to occlude like hell so His Murderousness didn't overhear. I suspected he'd be less than tolerant of Muggle musical lyrics.

Well, unless he harbored a Muggle musical secret of his own. You never knew with him.

Images of Voldemort bursting into Muggle song in front of his minions flooded my thoughts for a surreal moment. I choked out a small laugh before I caught hold of myself.

Occluding like hell - yes, that was a very good plan.


End file.
